


moon embracing the sun

by MissSpock



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort No Hurt, Drabble, Dreams, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Nightmares, Romantic Fluff, Set in the wee hours of Day 8, Stream of Consciousness, Unresolved Romantic Tension, and MC muses on her growing relationship w/ our fave hacker boi, basically everything's soft, but - Freeform, kind of a smol fic, shhhhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 16:22:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11786916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissSpock/pseuds/MissSpock
Summary: The sun loved the moon so much he died every night just to let her breathe.(He loves her. He loves her and he runs and she chases him.)





	moon embracing the sun

**Author's Note:**

> @RockinDragonz this is totally your fault I'm just saying :P #worstenablerever
> 
> Thought I would b back for a YOI update, buuuuuuuuuut Mysme happened oops? Not Really an xReader but also kind of an xReader bc how else do u write Mysme fics? 
> 
> I'm sorry abt the extended sun and moon metaphors and also how short this is. I may or may not have been watching a certain kdrama before writing this...

He's asleep.

She comes to to the blinking of the screen, casting reds and greens onto the wall, her fingers slack around her phone. Outside, the faintest pink is beginning to diffuse through the deep indigo horizon, and a gentle wind blows through the curtain. His jacket slips from her shoulders as the mattress dips and she places the ball of her foot onto the wood.

He breathes.

She rises, and his jacket pools at her feet.

Shadows cut across the floor. In the darkness, his wild red curls meld into the slope of his arms. Striped glasses twist uncomfortably on a nose that turns into the grain of the desk, wrinkling his brow, and he mumbles unintelligible numbers through parted lips pulled downward into a frown, fingers drooping over the keyboard.

Agent 707 of the daylight is a superhero. A god. A trickster's tongue and a soldier's eyes. 707 of the daylight is too bright to look at, too hot to touch. A ticking landmine, waiting to explode. Like the sun, he is close enough to long for, but never enough to love. 

So she wonders, instead.

His cracked lips scrape across her knuckle, breath tickling in warm drafts against her skin. His cheek is smooth under her thumb as she tucks her fingertips under the frame of his glasses.

Without them he looks impossibly young. This man, this man sleeping in the moonlight, this man, who's very name is uncertain, who is so quiet and anguished in the dark, is just a man.

She has the sudden urge to kiss that frown. 

Her hands wander toward his creased brows. Even in his sleep he holds the weight of the world, bears the brunt of everyone's suspicion and anger and his own guilt, staggers in the face of his demons, alone, always _alone_. Her palm rests against his forehead, and her fingers card through his red, red hair.

If he could forget, for only a moment, what he supposed himself to be. If he could be at peace, if only when he dreams. If only he allowed himself to be loved, just this once.

Seven turns into her palm. His brow smooths out and he breathes her name, reverent, like a prayer. Her heart cracks. 

Tears fall then. The tears she doesn't shed, in the daylight, when he's short with her. The tears she doesn't shed when he refuses to let her help. The tears are wrung from her lashes by the violent silence, and she presses her other hand to her face, knuckles to her mouth. 

He runs, so fast, torn through the sky, blazing and burning to the end of the world, and he loves her. He loves her, and he runs, and she chases him. She chases him because the light is in her eyes, in her lungs, in her voice. The sun is seared into the moon, reds and golds and blues and blacks colliding at the edge of dawn.

She lifts his head to put a pillow under his arm, can't resist pressing her lips to his, just for a moment. Just to feel the warmth of his skin.

The salt of her own tears hits her tongue as she lays her head down against the desk, ignores the blinking of the screen, blinks at him, instead.

Her eyes flutter shut, and she feels his breath blowing, steady against her cheek. 

It's enough, she thinks.

It's enough that the moon can embrace the sun like this, when the time is right and the weather is good. It's enough the sun doesn't have to burn all alone in the sky, that the moon can burn with him.

If only for a few minutes, the chase stills and they are together and whole. It's enough that he loves her, and she chases him. 

It's enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me a comment if u liked it pls my crops r dying


End file.
